Metta meditation is a practice of cultivating understanding, love, and compassion by looking deeply, first for ourselves and then for others. Once we love and take care of ourselves, we can be much more helpful to others. Metta meditation can be practiced in part or in full. Just saying one line of the metta meditation will already bring more compassion and healing into the world.

To love is, first of all, to accept ourselves as we actually are. That is why in this love meditation, “Know thyself” is the first practice of love. When we practice this, we see the conditions that have caused us to be the way we are. This makes it easy for us to accept ourselves, including our suffering and our happiness at the same time.

Metta means “lovingkindness” in Pali. We begin this with an aspiration: “May I be . . . ” Then we transcend the level of aspiration and look deeply at all the positive and negative characteristics of the object of our meditation, in this case ourselves. The willingness to love is not yet love. We look deeply, with all our being, in order to understand. We don’t just repeat the words, or imitate others, or strive after some ideal. The practice of love meditation is not autosuggestion. We don’t just say, “I love myself. I love all beings.” We look deeply at our body, our feelings, our perceptions, our mental formations, and our consciousness, and in just a few weeks, our aspiration to love will become a deep intention. Love will enter our thoughts, our words, and our actions, and we will notice that we have become “peaceful, happy, and light in body and spirit; safe and free from injury; and free from anger, afflictions, fear, and anxiety.”

When we practice, we observe how much peace, happiness, and lightness we already have. We notice whether we are anxious about accidents or misfortunes, and how much anger, irritation, fear, anxiety, or worry are already in us. As we become aware of the feelings in us, our self-understanding will deepen. We will see how our fears and lack of peace contribute to our unhappiness, and we will see the value of loving ourselves and cultivating a heart of compassion.

In this love meditation, “anger, afflictions, fear, and anxiety” refer to all the unwholesome, negative states of mind that dwell in us and rob us of our peace and happiness. Anger, fear, anxiety, craving, greed, and ignorance are the great afflictions of our time. By practicing mindful living, we are able to deal with them, and our love is translated into effective action.

Related: Why Compassion 

This is a love meditation adapted from the Visuddhimagga (The Path of Purification) by Buddhaghosa, a 5th-century systematization of the Buddha’s teachings.

To practice this love meditation, sit still, calm your body and your breathing, and recite it to yourself. The sitting position is wonderful for practicing this. Sitting still, you are not too preoccupied with other matters, so you can look deeply at yourself as you are, cultivate your love for yourself, and determine the best ways to express this love in the world.

May I be peaceful, happy, and light in body and spirit.
May she be peaceful, happy, and light in body and spirit.
May he be peaceful, happy, and light in body and spirit.
May they be peaceful, happy, and light in body and spirit.

May I be safe and free from injury.
May she be safe and free from injury.
May he be safe and free from injury.
May they be safe and free from injury.

May I be free from anger, afflictions, fear, and anxiety.
May she be free from anger, afflictions, fear, and anxiety.
May he be free from anger, afflictions, fear, and anxiety.
May they be free from anger, afflictions, fear, and anxiety.

Begin practicing this love meditation on yourself (“I”). Until you are able to love and take care of yourself, you cannot be of much help to others. After that, practice on others (“he/she,” “they”)—first on someone you like, then on someone neutral to you, then on someone you love, and finally on someone the mere thought of whom makes you suffer.

According to the Buddha, a human being is made of five elements, called skandhas in Sanskrit. They are: form (body), feelings, perceptions, mental formations, and consciousness. In a way, you are the surveyor, and these elements are your territory. To know the real situation within yourself, you have to know your own territory, including the elements within you that are at war with each other. In order to bring about harmony, reconciliation, and healing within, you have to understand yourself. Looking and listening deeply, surveying your territory, is the beginning of love meditation.

Begin this practice by looking deeply into your body. Ask: How is my body in this moment? How was it in the past? How will it be in the future? Later, when you meditate on someone you like, someone neutral to you, someone you love, and someone you hate, you also begin by looking at his physical aspects. Breathing in and out, visualize his face; his way of walking, sitting, and talking; his heart, lungs, kidneys, and all the organs in his body, taking as much time as you need to bring these details into awareness. But always start with yourself. When you see your own five skandhas clearly, understanding and love arise naturally, and you know what to do and what not to do to take care of yourself.

Look into your body to see whether it is at peace or is suffering from illness. Look at the condition of your lungs, your heart, your intestines, your kidneys, and your liver to see what the real needs of your body are. When you do, you will eat, drink, and act in ways that demonstrate your love and your compassion for your body. Usually you follow ingrained habits. But when you look deeply, you see that many of these habits harm your body and mind, so you work to transform your habits in ways conducive to good health and vitality.

Next, observe your feelings—whether they are pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. Feelings flow in us like a river, and each feeling is a drop of water in that river. Look into the river of your feelings and see how each feeling came to be. See what has been preventing you from being happy, and do your best to transform those things. Practice touching the wondrous, refreshing, and healing elements that are already in you and in the world. Doing so, you become stronger and better able to love yourself and others.

Then meditate on your perceptions. The Buddha observed, “The person who suffers most in this world is the person who has many wrong perceptions, and most of our perceptions are erroneous.” You see a snake in the dark and you panic, but when your friend shines a light on it, you see that it is only a rope. You have to know which wrong perceptions cause you to suffer. Please write beautifully the sentence “Are you sure?” on a piece of paper and tape it to your wall. Love meditation helps you learn to look with clarity and serenity in order to improve the way you perceive.

Next, observe your mental formations, the ideas and tendencies within you that lead you to speak and act as you do. Practice looking deeply to discover the true nature of your mental formations—how you are influenced by your individual consciousness and also by the collective consciousness of your family, ancestors, and society. Unwholesome mental formations cause so much disturbance; wholesome mental formations bring about love, happiness, and liberation.

Finally, look at your consciousness. According to Buddhism, consciousness is like a field with every possible kind of seed in it: seeds of love, compassion, joy, and equanimity; seeds of anger, fear, and anxiety; and seeds of mindfulness. Consciousness is the storehouse that contains all these seeds, all the possibilities of whatever might arise in your mind. When your mind is not at peace, it may be because of the desires and feelings in your store consciousness. To live in peace, you have to be aware of your tendencies—your habit energies—so you can exercise some self-control. This is the practice of preventive health care. Look deeply into the nature of your feelings to find their roots, to see which feelings need to be transformed, and nourish those feelings that bring about peace, joy, and well-being.

You can continue with the following aspirations, first for yourself, then for others:

May I learn to look at myself with the eyes of understanding and love.
May I learn to look at her with the eyes of understanding and love.
May I learn to look at him with the eyes of understanding and love.
May I learn to look at them with the eyes of understanding and love.

May I be able to recognize and touch the seeds of joy and happiness in myself.
May I be able to recognize and touch the seeds of joy and happiness in her.
May I be able to recognize and touch the seeds of joy and happiness in him.
May I be able to recognize and touch the seeds of joy and happiness in them.

May I learn to identify and see the sources of anger, craving, and delusion in myself.
May I learn to identify and see the sources of anger, craving, and delusion in her.
May I learn to identify and see the sources of anger, craving, and delusion in him.
May I learn to identify and see the sources of anger, craving, and delusion in them.

“May I learn to look at myself with the eyes of understanding and love.” One time when we practiced love meditation in Plum Village a young laywoman said to me, “When I meditated on my boyfriend, I found that I began to love him less. And when I meditated on the person I dislike the most, I suddenly hated myself.” Before the meditation, her love for her boyfriend was so passionate that she was not able to see his shortcomings. During her practice, she began to see him more clearly and she realized that he was less perfect than she imagined. She began to love him in a way that had more understanding in it, and therefore it was deeper and healthier.

She also had fresh insights into the person she disliked the most. She saw some of the reasons he was like that, and she saw how she had caused him to suffer by reacting to him harshly.

Again, we begin with ourselves to understand our own true nature. As long as we reject ourselves and continue to harm our own body and mind, there’s no point in talking about loving and accepting others. With mindfulness we will be able to recognize our habitual ways of thinking and the contents of our thoughts. We shine the light of mindfulness on the neural pathways in our mind so we can see them clearly.

Whenever we see or hear something, our attention can be appropriate or inappropriate. With mindfulness we can recognize which it is and release inappropriate attention and nurture appropriate attention. Appropriate mental attention, yoniso manaskara in Sanskrit, brings us happiness, peace, clarity, and love. Inappropriate attention, ayoniso manaskara, fills our mind with sorrow, anger, and prejudice. Mindfulness helps us practice appropriate attention and water the seeds of peace, joy, and liberation in us.

Next, we use mindfulness to illuminate our speech, so we can use loving speech and stop before we say anything that creates conflict for ourselves and others. Then we look into our physical actions. Mindfulness illuminates how we stand, sit, walk, smile, and frown, and how we look at others. We recognize which actions are beneficial and which bring harm.

Understanding of oneself and others is the key that opens the door of love and acceptance of oneself and others.

“May I be able to recognize and touch the seeds of joy and happiness in myself.” The soil of our mind contains many seeds, positive and negative. We are the gardeners who identify, water, and cultivate the best seeds. Touching the seeds of joy, peace, freedom, solidity, and love in ourselves and in each other is an important practice that helps us grow in the direction of health and happiness.

“May I learn to identify and see the sources of anger, craving, and delusion in myself.” We look deeply to see how these came about, what are their roots, and how long they have been there. We practice mindfulness in our daily lives to be aware that such poisons as craving, anger, delusion, arrogance, and suspicion are present in us. We can look and see how much suffering they have caused ourselves and others.

We need to master our own anger before we can help others to do the same. Arguing with others only waters the seeds of anger in us. When anger arises, return to yourself and use the energy of mindfulness to embrace, soothe, and illuminate it. Don’t think you’ll feel better if you lash out and make the other person suffer. The other person might respond even more harshly, and anger will escalate. The Buddha taught that when anger arises, close your eyes and ears, return to yourself, and tend to the source of anger within. Transforming your anger is not just for your personal liberation. Everyone around you and even those more distant will benefit.

Look deeply at your anger, as you would look at your own child. Don’t reject it or hate it. The point of meditation is not to turn yourself into a battlefield, one side opposing the other. Conscious breathing soothes and calms the anger, and mindfulness penetrates it. Anger is just an energy, and all energies can be transformed. Meditation is the art of using one kind of energy to transform another.

May I know how to nourish the seeds of joy in myself every day.
May I know how to nourish the seeds of joy in her every day.
May I know how to nourish the seeds of joy in him every day.
May I know how to nourish the seeds of joy in them every day.

May I be able to live fresh, solid, and free.
May she be able to live fresh, solid, and free.
May he be able to live fresh, solid, and free.
May they be able to live fresh, solid, and free.

May I be free from attachment and aversion, but not be indifferent.
May she be free from attachment and aversion, but not be indifferent.
May he be free from attachment and aversion, but not be indifferent.
May they be free from attachment and aversion, but not be indifferent.

These aspirations help us to water the seeds of joy and happiness that lie deep in our store consciousness. The notions we entertain about what will bring us happiness are just a trap. We forget that they are only ideas. Our idea of happiness can prevent us from being happy. When we believe that happiness should take a particular form, we fail to see the opportunities for joy that are right in front of us.

Related: A Quiver of the Heart 

Happiness is not an individual matter; it has the nature of interbeing. When you are able to make one friend smile, her happiness will nourish you also. When you find ways to foster peace, joy, and happiness, you do it for everyone. Begin by nourishing yourself with joyful feelings. Practice walking meditation outside, enjoying the fresh air, the trees, and the stars in the night sky. What do you do to nourish yourself? It’s important to discuss this subject with dear friends to find concrete ways to nourish joy and happiness. When you succeed in doing this, your suffering, sorrow, and painful mental formations will begin to transform.

“May I be able to live fresh, solid, and free.” “Fresh” is a translation of the Vietnamese word for “cool, without fever.” Jealousy, anger, and craving are a kind of fever. “Solid” refers to stability. If you aren’t solid, you won’t be able to accomplish much. Each day you only need to take a few solid steps in the direction of your goal. Each morning, you rededicate yourself to your path in order not to go astray. Before going to sleep at night, take a few minutes to review the day. “Did I live in the direction of my ideals today?” If you see that you took two or three steps in that direction, that is good enough. If you didn’t, say to yourself, “I’ll do better tomorrow.” Don’t compare yourself with others. Just look to yourself to see whether you are going in the direction you cherish. Take refuge in things that are solid. If you lean on something that isn’t solid, you will fall down. A few sanghas may not yet be solid, but usually taking refuge in a sangha is a wise thing to do. There are sangha members everywhere who are practicing earnestly.

“Freedom” means transcending the trap of harmful desires and being without attachments—whether to an institution, a diploma, or a certain rank. From time to time we encounter people who are free and can do whatever is needed.

“Indifference.” When we are indifferent, nothing is enjoyable, interesting, or worth striving for. We don’t experience love or understanding, and our life has no joy or meaning. We don’t even notice the beauties of nature or the laughter of children. We are unable to touch the suffering or the happiness of others. If you find yourself in a state of indifference, ask your friends for help. Even with all its suffering, life is filled with many wonders.

“Free from attachment and aversion.” The kind of love the Buddha wanted us to cultivate is not possessive or attached. All of us, young and old, have a tendency to become attached. As soon as we are born, attachment to self is already there. In wholesome love relationships, there is a certain amount of possessiveness and attachment, but if it’s excessive, both lover and beloved will suffer. If a father thinks he “owns” his son, or if a young man tries to put restrictions on his girlfriend, then love becomes a prison. This is also true in relationships between friends, teachers, students, and so on. Attachment obstructs the flow of life. And without mindfulness, attachment always becomes aversion. Both attachment and aversion lead to suffering. Look deeply to discover the nature of your love, and identify the degree of attachment, despotism, and possessiveness in your love. Then you can begin untangling the knots. The seeds of true love—lovingkindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity—are already there in our store consciousness. Through the practice of deep looking, the seeds of suffering and attachment will shrink and the positive seeds will grow. We can transform attachment and aversion and arrive at a love that is spacious and all-encompassing.

♦

From No Mud, No Lotus: The Art of Transforming Suffering, by Thich Nhat Hanh © 2014 Parallax Press. Reprinted with permission of the publisher.

To read more about metta meditation see Triumph of the Heart.

The post Cultivating Compassion appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

I have the impression that many of us are afraid of silence. We’re always taking in something—text, music, radio, television, or thoughts—to occupy the space. If quiet and space are so important for our happiness, why don’t we make more room for them in our lives.

One of my longtime students has a partner who is very kind, a good listener, and not overly talkative; but at home her partner always needs to have the radio or TV on, and he likes a newspaper in front of him while he sits and eats his breakfast.

I know a woman whose daughter loved to go to sitting meditation at the local Zen temple and encouraged her to give it a try. The daughter told her, “It’s really easy, Mom. You don’t have to sit on the floor; there are chairs available. You don’t have to do anything at all. We just sit quietly.” Very truthfully the woman replied, “I think I’m afraid to do that.”

Related: Why We Shouldn’t Be Afraid of Suffering 

We can feel lonely even when we’re surrounded by many people. We are lonely together. There is a vacuum inside us. We don’t feel comfortable with that vacuum, so we try to fill it up or make it go away. Technology supplies us with many devices that allow us to “stay connected.” These days, we are always “connected,” but we continue to feel lonely. We check incoming e-mail and social media sites multiple times a day. We e-mail or post one message after another. We want to share; we want to receive. We busy ourselves all day long in an effort to connect.

What are we so afraid of? We may feel an inner void, a sense of isolation, of sorrow, of restlessness. We may feel desolate and unloved. We may feel that we lack something important. Some of these feelings are very old and have been with us always, underneath all our doing and our thinking. Having plenty of stimuli makes it easy for us to distract ourselves from what we’re feeling. But when there is silence, all these things present themselves clearly.

Practice: Nourishing

When feeling lonely or anxious, most of us have the habit of looking for distractions, which often leads to some form of unwholesome consumption—whether eating a snack in the absence of hunger, mindlessly surfing the Internet, going on a drive, or reading. Conscious breathing is a good way to nourish body and mind with mindfulness. After a mindful breath or two, you may have less desire to fill yourself up or distract yourself. Your body and mind come back together and both are nourished by your mindfulness of breathing. Your breath will naturally grow more relaxed and help the tension in your body to be released.

Related: Dropping Distraction 

Coming back to conscious breathing will give you a nourishing break. It will also make your mindfulness stronger, so when you want to look into your anxiety or other emotions you’ll have the calm and concentration to be able to do so.

Guided meditation has been practiced since the time of the Buddha. You can practice the following exercise when you sit or walk. In sitting meditation, it’s important for you to be comfortable and for your spine to be straight and relaxed. You can sit on a cushion with your legs crossed or on a chair with your feet flat on the floor. With the first in-breath, say the first line of the meditation below silently to yourself, and with the out-breath say the second line. With the following in-and out-breaths, you can use just the key words. 

Breathing in, I know I’m breathing in.

Breathing out, I know I’m breathing out.

(In. Out.)

Breathing in, my breath grows deep.
Breathing out, my breath grows slow.
(Deep. Slow.)

Breathing in, I’m aware of my body.
Breathing out, I calm my body.
(Aware of body. Calming.)

Breathing in, I smile.
Breathing out, I release.
(Smile. Release.)

The post Fear of Silence appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

In the Lotus Sutra, the Buddha is described as the most respected and loved creature who walked on two feet. He was so loved because he knew how to enjoy a good walk. Walking is an important form of Buddhist meditation. It can be a very deep spiritual practice. But when the Buddha walked, he walked without effort. He just enjoyed walking. He didn’t have to strain, because when you walk in mindfulness, you are in touch with all the wonders of life within you and around you. This is the best way to practice, with the appearance of nonpractice. You don’t make any effort, you don’t struggle, you just enjoy walking, but it’s very deep. “My practice,” the Buddha said, “is the nonpractice, the attainment of nonattainment.”

For many of us, the idea of practice without effort, of the relaxed pleasure of mindfulness, seems very difficult. That is because we don’t walk with our feet. Of course, physically our feet are doing the walking, but because our minds are elsewhere, we are not walking with our full body and our full consciousness. We see our minds and our bodies as two separate things. While our bodies are walking one way, our consciousness is tugging us in a different direction.

For the Buddha, mind and the body are two aspects of the same thing. Walking is as simple as putting one foot in front of the other. But we often find it difficult or tedious. We drive a few blocks rather than walk in order to “save time.” When we understand the interconnectedness of our bodies and our minds, the simple act of walking like the Buddha can feel supremely easy and pleasurable. 

You can take a step and touch the earth in such a way that you establish yourself in the present moment; you will arrive in the here and the now. You don’t need to make any effort at all. Your foot touches the earth mindfully, and you arrive firmly in the here and the now. And suddenly you are free—free from all projects, all worries, all expectations. You are fully present, fully alive, and you are touching the earth.

When you practice slow walking meditation alone, try this: Breathe in and take one step, and focus all your attention on the sole of your foot. If you have not arrived fully, one hundred percent in the here and the now, don’t make the next step. You have the luxury of doing this. Then when you’re sure that you’ve arrived one hundred percent in the here and the now, touching reality deeply, then you smile and you make the next step. When you walk like this, you print your stability, your solidity, your freedom, your joy on the ground. Your foot is like a seal. When you put the seal on a piece of paper, the seal makes an impression. Looking in your footstep, you see the mark of freedom, the mark of solidity, the mark of happiness, the mark of life. You can make a step like that because there is a buddha in you—buddhanature, the capacity of being aware of what is going on. There is a buddha in every one of us, and we should allow the buddha to walk.

Even in the most difficult situation, you can walk like a buddha. Last year I visited Korea, and there was one moment when my group was surrounded by hundreds of people. Each of them had a camera, and they were closing in. There was no path to walk, and everyone was aiming their camera at us. It was a very difficult situation in which to do walking meditation, so I said, “Dear Buddha, I give up, you walk for me.” And right away the Buddha came, and he walked, with complete freedom, and the crowd made room for the Buddha to walk; no effort was made. If you find yourself in some difficulty, step aside, and allow the Buddha to take your place. The Buddha is in you. This works in all situations, I have tried it. It’s like encountering a problem when you’re using the computer. You can’t get out of the situation. But then your big brother who is very skillful with computers comes along and says, “Move over a little, I’ll take over.” And as soon as he sits down, everything is all right. It’s like that. When you find it difficult, withdraw and allow the Buddha to take your place. You have to have faith in the Buddha within, and allow the Buddha to walk, and also allow the people dear to you to walk.

When you walk, who do you walk for? You can walk to get somewhere but you can also walk as a kind of meditative offering. It’s nice to walk for your parents or for your grandparents who may not have known the practice of walking in mindfulness. You ancestors may have spent their whole life without the chance to make peaceful, happy steps and establish themselves fully in the present moment.

It is possible for you to walk with the feet of your mother. You can say, “Mother, would you like to walk with me?” And then you walk with her, and your heart will fill with love. You free yourself and you free her at the same time, because your mother is in you, in every cell of your body. Your father is also fully present in every cell of your body. You can say, “Dad, would you like to join me?” Then suddenly you walk with the feet of your father. It’s a joy. It’s very rewarding. You don’t have to fight and struggle in order to do it. Just become aware.

After you have been able to walk for your dear ones, you can walk for the people who have made your life miserable. You can walk for those who have attacked you, who have destroyed your home, your country, and your people. These people weren’t happy. They didn’t have enough love for themselves and for other people. They have made your life miserable, and the life of your family and your people miserable. And there will be a time when you’ll be able to walk for them too. Walking like that, you become a buddha, you become a bodhisattva filled with love, understanding, and compassion.

Walking Meditation Practice

The mind can go in a thousand directions.
But on this beautiful path, I walk in peace.
With each step, a gentle wind blows.
With each step, a flower blooms.

During walking meditation we walk slowly, in a relaxed way, keeping a light smile on our lips. When we practice this way, we feel deeply at ease, and our steps are those of the most secure person on Earth. Walking meditation is really to enjoy the walking—walking not in order to arrive, just for walking, to be in the present moment, and to enjoy each step. Therefore you have to shake off all worries and anxieties, not thinking of the future, not thinking of the past, just enjoying the present moment. Anyone can do it. It takes only a little time, a little mindfulness, and the wish to be happy.

We walk all the time, but usually it is more like running. Our hurried steps print anxiety and sorrow on the Earth. If we can take one step in peace, we can take two, three, four, and then five steps for the peace and happiness of humankind.

Our mind darts from one thing to another, like a monkey swinging from branch to branch without stopping to rest. Thoughts have millions of pathways, and we are forever pulled along by them into the world of forgetfulness. If we can transform our walking path into a field for meditation, our feet will take every step in full awareness, our breathing will be in harmony with our steps, and our mind will naturally be at ease. Every step we take will reinforce our peace and joy and cause a stream of calm energy to flow through us. Then we can say, “With each step, a gentle wind blows.”

While walking, practice conscious breathing by counting steps. Notice each breath and the number of steps you take as you breathe in and as you breathe out. If you take three steps during an in-breath, say, silently, “One, two, three,” or “In, in, in,” one word with each step. As you breathe out, if you take three steps, say, “Out, out, out,” with each step. If you take three steps as you breathe in and four steps as you breathe out, you say, “In, in, in. Out, out, out, out,” or “One, two, three. One, two, three, four.”

Don’t try to control your breathing. Allow your lungs as much time and air as they need, and simply notice how many steps you take as your lungs fill up and how many you take as they empty, mindful of both your breath and your steps. The key is mindfulness.

When you walk uphill or downhill, the number of steps per breath will change. Always follow the needs of your lungs. Do not try to control your breathing or your walking. Just observe them deeply.

When you begin to practice, your exhalation may be longer than your inhalation. You might find that you take three steps during your in-breath and four steps on your out-breath. If this is comfortable for you, enjoy practicing this way. After you have been doing walking meditation for some time, your in-breath and out-breath will probably become equal: 3-3, or 2-2, or 4-4.

If you see something along the way that you want to touch with your mindfulness—the blue sky, the hills, a tree, or a bird—just stop, but while you do, continue breathing mindfully. You can keep the object of your contemplation alive by means of mindful breathing. If you don’t breathe consciously, sooner or later your thinking will settle back in, and the bird or the tree will disappear. Always stay with your breathing.

After you have been practicing for a few days, try adding one more step to your exhalation. For example, if your normal breathing is 2-2, without walking any faster, lengthen your exhalation and practice 2-3 for four or five times. Then go back to 2-2. In normal breathing, we never expel all the air from our lungs. There is always some left. By adding another step to your exhalation, you will push out more of this stale air. Don’t overdo it. Four or five times are enough. More can make you tired. After breathing this way four or five times, let your breath return to norma1. Then, five or ten minutes later, you can repeat the process. Remember to add a step to the exhalation, not the inhalation.

After practicing for a few more days, your lungs might say to you, “If we could do 3-3 instead of 2-3, that would be wonderful.” If the message is clear, try it, but even then, only do it four or five times. Then go back to 2-2. In five or ten minutes, begin 2-3, and then do 3-3 again. After several months, your lungs will be healthier and your blood will circulate better. Your way of breathing will have been transformed.

When we practice walking meditation, we arrive in each moment. When we enter the present moment deeply, our regrets and sorrows disappear, and we discover life with all its wonders. Breathing in, we say to ourselves, “I have arrived.” Breathing out, we say, “I am home.” When we do this, we overcome dispersion and dwell peacefully in the present moment, which is the only moment for us to be alive.

You can also practice walking meditation using the lines of a poem. In Zen Buddhism, poetry and practice always go together.

I have arrived.
I am home
in the here,
in the now.
I am solid.
I am free.
In the ultimate
I dwell.

As you walk, be fully aware of your foot, the ground, and the connection between them, which is your conscious breathing. People say that walking on water is a miracle, but to me, walking peacefully on the Earth is the real miracle. The Earth is a miracle. Each step is a miracle. Taking steps on our beautiful planet can bring real happiness.

The post Walk Like a Buddha appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

In the springtime, thousands of different kinds of flowers bloom. Your heart can also bloom. You can let your heart open up to the world. Love is possible—do not be afraid of it. Love is indispensable to life, and if in the past you have suffered because of love, you can learn how to love again.

The practice of mindfulness will help you to love properly, in such a way that harmony, freedom, and joy are possible. The true declaration of love is, “Dear one, I am here for you,” because the most precious gift you can give to your loved one is your true presence, with body and mind united in solidity and freedom.

You also have to learn how to speak all over again. When you speak with 100 percent of your being, your speech becomes a mantra. In Buddhism, a mantra is a sacred formula that has the power to transform reality. You don’t need to practice mantras in some foreign language like Sanskrit or Tibetan. You can practice in your own beautiful language: for if your body and mind are unified in mindfulness, then whatever you say becomes a mantra.

After you have practiced walking meditation or mindfulness of the breath for two or three minutes, you are here, really alive, truly present. You look at the person you love with a smile, and you say the first mantra: “Dear one, I am here for you.” You know that if you are here, then your beloved is here also. Life, with all its miracles, is here, and among those miracles is the person before you, the one you love.

You can say this mantra a few times a day: “Dear one, I am here for you.” And now that you have the ability to recognize the presence of this other person, you can practice a second mantra: “Dear one, I know that you are here, alive, and that makes me very happy.” This mantra enables you to recognize the presence of the other person as something very precious, a miracle. It is the mantra of deep appreciation for his or her presence.

When people feel appreciated in this way—when they feel embraced by the mindful attention of another—then they will open and blossom like a flower. There is no doubt that you can make this happen through the energy of mindfulness. You can do it right away, even today, and you will see that the transformation it brings about is instantaneous. In order to love, we must be here, and then our presence will embrace the presence of the other person. Only then will they have the feeling of being loved. So you must recognize the presence of the other person with the energy of mindfulness, with the genuine presence of your body and mind in oneness.

If the person you love is suffering, you can say a third mantra: “Dear one, I know that you are suffering. That’s why I am here for you.” You are here, and you recognize the fact that your loved one is suffering. You don’t need to make a big deal about it; you just generate your own presence and say this mantra. That’s all. “Dear one, I know that you are suffering. That’s why I am here for you.” This is the essence of love—to be there for the one you love when she is suffering.

A mantra can be expressed not only through speech but by the mind and body as a whole. The fact that you are there with the energy of your presence and understanding, and the fact that you recognize the presence of the other person and their suffering, will give them a great deal of relief. Some people suffer deeply but are completely ignored by others. They are alone and isolated, so cut off from the rest of the world that their suffering becomes overwhelming. You must go to them and open the door to their heart so they can see the love that is there.

Our bodies and minds are sustained by the cosmos. The clouds in the sky nourish us; the light of the sun nourishes us. The cosmos offers us vitality and love in every moment. Despite this fact, some people feel isolated and alienated from the world. As a bodhisattva, you can approach such a person, and with the miracle of the mantra you can open the door of his or her heart to the world and to the love that is always happening. “Dear one, I know that you are suffering a lot. I know this, and I am here for you, just as the trees are here for you and the flowers are here for you.” The suffering is there, but something else is also there: the miracle of life. With this mantra, you will help them to realize this and open the door of their closed heart.

The fourth mantra is a bit more difficult to practice, but I will transmit it to you because one day you will need it. It is: “Dear one, I am suffering. I need your help.” This fourth mantra is more difficult to practice because of the negative habit energy we call pride. When your suffering has been caused by the person you love the most in the world, the pain is very great. If someone else had said or done the same thing to you, you would suffer much less. But if the person who did it is the one who is dearest to you in the world, the suffering is really dreadful. You want to lock yourself away in a room and cry alone.

Now, when this person notices that something is wrong and tries to approach you about it, you might rebuff him or her. “Leave me alone,” you say. “I don’t need you.” The other might say, “Dear one, it seems to me that you are suffering,” but you do everything possible to prove you don’t need them.

This is exactly the opposite of what you should do. You should practice mindfulness of the breath with your body and mind in union, and with this total presence, go to the other person and say the mantra: “Dear one, I am suffering. I need your help. I need you to explain to me why you did this thing to me.”

If you are a real practitioner, please use this fourth mantra when you are in such a situation. You must not let pride come between you and your loved one. Many people suffer because of this obstacle called pride. You love someone, you need them, and so in these difficult moments, you should go and ask them for help.

In true love, there is no place for pride. I beg you to remember this. You share happiness and adversity with this person, so you must go to him or her and share the truth about your suffering. “Dear one, I am suffering too much. I want you to help me. Explain to me why you said that to me.”

When you do that, the Buddha does it at the same time with you, because the Buddha is in you. All of us practice this mantra along with you—you have the support of the Buddha, the dharma, and the sangha in uttering these words. These words will quickly transform the situation, so do not let things drag on for months or years. You should act decisively; the magic formulas have been transmitted to you for this purpose. Inscribe these four mantras in your heart, and use them. This is the practice of love, and its foundation is the energy of mindfulness.

⧫

From You Are Here: Discovering the Magic of the Present Moment by Thich Nhat Hanh. English translation © 2009 by Shambhala Publications, Inc. Reprinted in arrangement with Shambhala Publications, Inc. Boulder, CO.

The post Dear One, I Am Here for You appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

We must learn to speak with love again. This is a thing that can be done in a practice community where brothers and sisters practice loving speech every day. There are pacifists who can write protest letters of great condemnation but who are incapable of writing a love letter. You have to write in such a way that the other person is receptive toward reading; you have to speak in such a way that the other person is receptive toward listening. If you do not, it is not worth the trouble to write or to speak. To write in such a way is to practice meditation.

♦

From True Love: A Practice for Awakening the Heart by Thich Nhat Hanh © 1997 by Éditions Terre du Ciel and Unified Buddhist Church, Inc. Translation © 2004 by Shambhala Publications. This edition published in 2023. Reprinted in arrangement with Shambhala Publications, Inc.

The post Speaking with Love appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

To love, in the context of Buddhism, is above all to be there. But being there is not an easy thing. Some training is necessary, some practice. If you are not there, how can you love? Being there is very much an art, the art of meditation, because meditating is bringing your true presence to the here and now. The question that arises is: Do you have time to love?

I know a boy of 12 whose father asked him one day: “Son, what would you like for your birthday present?” The boy did not know how to answer his father, who was a very rich man, able to buy anything for his son. But the boy did not want anything except his father’s presence. Because the role the father played kept him very busy, he did not have time to devote to his wife and children. Being rich is an obstacle to loving. When you are rich, you want to continue to be rich, and so you end up devoting all your time, all your energy in your daily life, to staying rich. If this father were to understand what true love is, he would do whatever is necessary to find time for his son and his wife.

The most precious gift you can give to the one you love is your true presence. What must we do to really be there? Those who have practiced Buddhist meditation know that meditating is above all being present: to yourself, to those you love, to life.

So I would propose a very simple practice to you, the practice of mindful breathing: “Breathing—I know that I am breathing in; breathing—I know that I am breathing out.” If you do that with a little concentration, then you will be able to really be there, because in our daily life our mind and our body are rarely together. Our body might be there, but our mind is somewhere else. Maybe you are lost in regrets about the past, maybe in worries about the future, or else you are preoccupied with your plans, with anger or with jealousy. And so your mind is not really there with your body.

The most precious gift you can give to the one you love is your true presence.

Between the mind and the body, there is something that can serve as a bridge. The moment you begin to practice mindful breathing, your body and your mind begin to come together with one another. It takes only ten to twenty seconds to accomplish this miracle called oneness of body and mind. With mindful breathing, you can bring body and mind together in the present moment, and every one of us can do it, even a child.

The Buddha left us an absolutely essential text, the Anapanasati Sutta, or Discourse on the Practice of Mindful Breathing. If you really want to practice Buddhist meditation, you must study this text.

If the father I was talking about had known that, he would have begun to breathe in and breathe out mindfully, and then one or two minutes later, he would have approached his son, he would have looked at him with a smile, and he would have said this: “My dear, I am here for you.” This is the greatest gift you can give to someone you love.

In Buddhism we talk about mantras. A mantra is a magic formula that, once it is uttered, can entirely change a situation, our mind, our body, or a person. But this magic formula must be spoken in a state of concentration, that is to say, a state in which body and mind are absolutely in a state of unity. What you say then, in this state of being, becomes a mantra.

So I am going to present to you a very effective mantra, not in Sanskrit or Tibetan, but in English: “Dear one, I am here for you.” Perhaps this evening you will try for a few minutes to practice mindful breathing in order to bring your body and mind together. You will approach the person you love and with this mindfulness, with this concentration, you will look into his or her eyes, and you will begin to utter this formula: “Dear one, I am really here for you.” You must say that with your body and with your mind at the same time, and then you will see the transformation. 

Do you have enough time to love? Can you make sure that in your everyday life you have a little time to love? We do not have much time together; we are too busy. In the morning while eating breakfast, we do not look at the person we love, we do not have enough time for it. We eat very quickly while thinking about other things, and sometimes we even hold a newspaper that hides the face of the person we love. In the evening when we come home, we are too tired to be able to look at the person we love.

We must bring about a revolution in our way of living our everyday lives, because our happiness, our lives, are within ourselves. 

⧫

From True Love: A Practice for Awakening the Heart by Thich Nhat Hanh © 1997 by Éditions Terre du Ciel and Unified Buddhist Church, Inc. Translation © 2004 by Shambhala Publications. This edition published in 2023. Reprinted in arrangement with Shambhala Publications, Inc. Boulder, CO. www.shambhala.com

The post Love Is Being There appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

My dear friends in California, happiness is not something you get from outside. To me, happiness is born from peace. With the practice of mindfulness, we can calm our body and our mind. Then peace and happiness become possible. The Buddha body is in us. Using the energy of mindfulness, we can touch the body of the Buddha within us and around us at any time. And I know the sangha body is in me and around me. The trees, the grass, the blue sky, and the flowers are all elements of my sangha. And you are my sangha body. You take care of me.

In Vietnam, we used to say, “When a tiger leaves his mountain and goes to the lowlands, he will be caught by humans and killed.” When a practitioner leaves his or her sangha, at some time she will abandon her practice. We have to take refuge in our sangha, our community of practice. We cannot continue our practice very long without a sangha. The art of sangha building is crucial to our practice.

If a sangha is available in your area, please keep in touch and take refuge there. If the sangha doesn’t have the quality you expect, don’t abandon it. Do not look for a perfect sangha. Stick to the one you have and try, with your practice and your joy and peace, to improve its quality. This is very important.

If there is no sangha available where you are, then practice looking deeply in order to identify elements of your future sangha around yourself. Members of your sangha may be your child, your partner, and a beautiful path in the woods. The blue sky and the beautiful trees are also members of your sangha. Please use your talent and your intuition to create a sangha for your own support and practice. We all need a sangha very much.

Our practice should be supported by the people around us, and we can learn how to support them in return. We support them by looking deeply so we can recognize the seeds of peace, joy, and lovingkindness in them. We touch these seeds, and we water these seeds every day in order to make other people bloom like flowers. And when these people bloom like flowers, we all become happier. We have to help each other in our practice. The practice of meditation is not an individual matter. We have to do it together.

The Buddha, Shakyamuni, our teacher, predicted that the next Buddha would be Maitreya, the Buddha of love. We desperately need love. And in the Buddha’s teaching, we learn that love is born from understanding. The willingness to love is not enough. If you do not understand, you cannot love. The capacity to understand the other person will bring about acceptance and lovingkindness.

It is possible the next Buddha will not take the form of an individual. The next Buddha may take the form of a community, a community practicing understanding and lovingkindness, a community practicing mindful living. And the practice can be carried out as a group, as a city, as a nation.

We know that in the spirit of the Lotus Sutra we are all students of the Buddha, no matter what tradition we find ourselves in. We should extend that spirit to other traditions that are not called Buddhist. We can find the jewels in other traditions—the equivalent of the Buddha, the dharma, and the sangha. Once you are capable of seeing the jewels in other spiritual traditions, you will be working together for the goals of peace and brotherhood.

We should include everyone in our practice. Use your talents and your creative ideas. Organize a day of mindfulness in such a way that children love it. Many children who have come to retreats in North America have had a joyful time. And parents become happier when they see their children happy. Organize a day of mindfulness in such a way that our friends enjoy it and want to practice more and more. One day of mindfulness can bring about a lot of peace, friendship, understanding, and love.

My friends, once again, you are my sangha body. I offer you all my support and wish you very strongly to take care of the sangha body which is our refuge. I take refuge in you, my sangha.

⧫

From the Spring 1994 issue of Inquiring Mind (Vol. 10, No. 2) © 1994 Inquiring Mind and Thich Nhat Hanh

Related Inquiring Mind articles:

• “The Flute of the Buddha: Art, Practice and Everyday Life” by Thich Nhat Hanh  
  
• “Peace Becomes Possible: An Interview with Thich Nhat Hanh” by Don Lattin, Alan Senauke, Barbara Gates, and Wes Nisker  
• “Taking Refuge in Community” by Ajahn Amaro
  
• “Awakening Together” by Larry Yang 

The post The Next Buddha May Be a Sangha appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

Over a decade ago, Thich Nhat Hanh asked his students to put together a book of his teachings on sustaining ourselves and our planet. A peace activist who is credited with bringing “engaged Buddhism” to the forefront, the Vietnamese Zen master was a vocal advocate for protecting the earth. “When you wake up and you see that the Earth is not just the environment, the Earth is us, you touch the nature of interbeing,” he wrote in a teaching that opens the book, which came out in October and contains wisdom from both Thich Nhat Hanh and his student, Sister True Dedication. Read a collection of excerpts from Zen and the Art of Saving the Planet, including a practice for taking refuge in Mother Earth, below.

“The Beauty of the Earth Is a Bell of Mindfulness”

The truth is that many of us have become alienated from the Earth. We forget that we are alive, here, on a beautiful planet and that our body is a wonder given to us by the Earth and the whole cosmos. If the Earth has been able to offer life it is because she, too, has non-Earth elements in her, including the sun and stars. Humankind is made of stars. The Earth is not only the Earth but the whole cosmos.

Only when you have this right view, this insight, will discrimination no longer be there, and there will be deep communion, deep communication between you and the Earth.

“You Are More Than You Think”

The notion of a separate self is like a tunnel that you keep going into. When you practice meditation, you can see that there is the breathing but no breather can be found anywhere; there is the sitting but no sitter can be found anywhere. When you see that, the tunnel will vanish, and there will be a lot of space, a lot of freedom.

“Reconsider Your Idea of Happiness”

To save our planet, we need to re-examine our ideas of happiness. Every one of us has a view, an idea, about what will make us happy. And, because of that idea of happiness, we may have sacrificed our time and destroyed our body and mind running after those things. But, once we realize that we already have more than enough conditions to be happy, we can be happy right here and right now.

“Eating with Non-Violence”

Mindfulness helps us be aware of what is going on. The meat industry has devastated our planet. Forests are being destroyed to create grazing land for cattle or to grow crops to feed them. The world’s cattle alone consume a quantity of food equivalent to the caloric needs of 8.7 billion people. It takes a hundred times more water to produce a single pound of meat than it does to produce a pound of grain.

Urgent action must be taken at the individual and collective levels. Not eating meat is a powerful way to help our planet survive. Simply by eating vegetarian, you can preserve water, reduce pollution, prevent deforestation, and protect wildlife from extinction. If we stop consuming, they will stop producing.

“In True Dialogue, Both Sides Are Willing to Change”

If you want to save the planet and transform society, you need brotherhood and sisterhood; you need togetherness. Whenever we speak about the environment, or peace and social justice, we usually speak of non-violent actions or technological solutions, and we forget that the element of collaboration is crucial. Without it, we cannot do anything; we cannot save our planet. Technical solutions have to be supported by togetherness, understanding, and compassion.

“In the Belly of the Earth”

The Earth is inside of us and we are already in the Earth. We don’t need to wait until we die to return to the Earth. We need to learn how to take refuge in Mother Earth—it is the best way to heal and to nourish ourselves. We can do it if we know how to allow the Earth to be, within us and around us—just being aware that we are the Earth. And we don’t have to do much. In fact, we don’t have to do anything at all. It’s like when we were in our mother’s womb. We did not have to breathe, we did not have to eat, because our mother breathed for us and ate for us. We did not have to worry about anything.

You can do the same now when you sit. Allow Mother Earth to sit for you. When you breathe, allow the Earth to breathe for you, when you walk, allow the Earth to walk for you. Don’t make any effort. Allow her to do it. She knows how to do it. Don’t try to do anything. Don’t try to fight in order to sit. Don’t try to breathe in and breathe out. Don’t even try to be peaceful. Allow the Earth to do everything for you. Allow the air to enter our lungs and to flow out of our lungs. We don’t need to make any effort to breathe in or breathe out. Just allow nature, allow the Earth to breathe in and out for us. And we just sit there, enjoying the breathing in and the breathing out. There is the breathing but there is no “you” who is breathing in or breathing out. We don’t need a “you” or an “I” in order to breathe in and out. The breathing in and the breathing out happen by themselves. Try it!

♦

Excerpted from Zen and the Art of Saving the Planet by Thich Nhat Hanh with permission from HarperOne, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. Copyright 2021.

The post 6 Quotes from Thich Nhat Hanh on Saving the Planet appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

We all want to be happy and there are many books and teachers in the world that try to help people be happier. Yet we all continue to suffer.

Therefore, we may think that we’re “doing it wrong.” Somehow we are “failing at happiness.” That isn’t true. Being able to enjoy happiness doesn’t require that we have zero suffering. In fact, the art of happiness is also the art of suffering well. When we learn to acknowledge, embrace, and understand our suffering, we suffer much less. Not only that, but we’re also able to go further and transform our suffering into understanding, compassion, and joy for ourselves and for others. 

One of the most difficult things for us to accept is that there is no realm where there’s only happiness and there’s no suffering. This doesn’t mean that we should despair. Suffering can be transformed. As soon as we open our mouth to say “suffering,” we know that the opposite of suffering is already there as well. Where there is suffering, there is happiness.

Suffering and Happiness Are Not Separate

When we suffer, we tend to think that suffering is all there is at that moment, and happiness belongs to some other time or place. People often ask, “Why do I have to suffer?” Thinking we should be able to have a life without any suffering is as deluded as thinking we should be able to have a left side without a right side. The same is true of thinking we have a life in which no happiness whatsoever is to be found. If the left says, “Right, you have to go away. I don’t want you. I only want the left”—that’s nonsense, because then the left would have to stop existing as well. If there’s no right, then there’s no left. Where there is no suffering, there can be no happiness either, and vice versa.

If we can learn to see and skillfully engage with both the presence of happiness and the presence of suffering, we will go in the direction of enjoying life more. Every day we go a little farther in that direction, and eventually we realize that suffering and happiness are not two separate things.

Cold air can be painful if you aren’t wearing enough warm clothes. But when you’re feeling overheated or you’re walking outside with proper clothing, the bracing sensation of cold air can be a source of feeling joy and aliveness. Suffering isn’t some kind of external, objective source of oppression and pain. There might be things that cause you to suffer, such as loud music or bright lights, which may bring other people joy. There are things that bring you joy that annoy other people. The rainy day that ruins your plans for a picnic is a boon for the farmer whose field is parched.

Happiness is possible right now, today—but happiness cannot be without suffering. Some people think that in order to be happy they must avoid all suffering, and so they are constantly vigilant, constantly worrying. They end up sacrificing all their spontaneity, freedom, and joy. This isn’t correct. If you can recognize and accept your pain without running away from it, you will discover that although pain is there, joy can also be there at the same time.

Some say that suffering is only an illusion or that to live wisely we have to “transcend” both suffering and joy. I say the opposite. The way to suffer well and be happy is to stay in touch with what is actually going on; in doing so, you will gain liberating insights into the true nature of suffering and of joy.

No Mud, No Lotus

Both suffering and happiness are of an organic nature, which means they are both transitory, always changing. The flower, when it wilts, becomes the compost. The compost can help grow a flower again. Happiness is also organic and impermanent by nature. It can become suffering and suffering can become happiness again. 

In each of our Plum Village practice centers around the world, we have a lotus pond. We know we need to have mud for lotuses to grow. The mud doesn’t smell so good, but the lotus flower smells very good. If you don’t have mud, the lotus won’t manifest. You can’t grow lotus flowers on marble. Without mud, there can be no lotus. 

If you know how to make good use of the mud, you can grow beautiful lotuses.

It is possible of course to get stuck in the “mud” of life. The hardest thing to practice is not allowing yourself to be overwhelmed by despair. When you’re overwhelmed by despair, all you can see is suffering everywhere you look. But we must remember that suffering is a kind of mud that we need in order to generate joy and happiness. Without suffering, there’s no happiness. So we shouldn’t discriminate against the mud. We have to learn how to embrace and cradle our own suffering and the suffering of the world, with a lot of tenderness.

When I lived in Vietnam during the war, it was difficult to see our way through that dark and heavy time. It seemed like the destruction would just go on and on forever. Every day people would ask me if I thought the war would end soon. It was very difficult to answer, because there was no end in sight. But I knew if I said, “I don’t know,” that would only water their seeds of despair. So when people asked me that question, I replied, “Everything is impermanent, even war. It will end some day.” Knowing that, we could continue to work for peace. And indeed the war did end. Now the former mortal enemies are busily trading and touring back and forth, and people throughout the world enjoy practicing our tradition’s teachings on mindfulness and peace.

If you know how to make good use of the mud, you can grow beautiful lotuses. If you know how to make good use of suffering, you can produce happiness. We need some suffering to make happiness possible.

A Meditation on Transforming Suffering

The essence of meditation practice can be described as transforming suffering into happiness. It’s not a complicated practice, but it requires us to cultivate mindfulness, concentration, and insight. First of all, we come home to ourselves, make peace with our suffering, treat it tenderly, and look deeply at the roots of our pain. It requires that we let go of useless, unnecessary sufferings and take a closer look at our idea of happiness; our idea of happiness may be the very cause of our suffering. Finally, it requires that we nourish happiness daily, with acknowledgment, understanding, and compassion for ourselves and for those around us. This is the art of suffering and the art of happiness.

According to the Buddha, a human being is made of five elements: form (body), feelings, perceptions, mental formations, and consciousness. You are the surveyor, the caretaker, and these elements are your territory. You have to know your own territory, including the elements within you that are at war with each other. In order to bring about harmony, reconciliation, and healing within, you have to understand yourself.

Begin this practice by looking deeply into your body. Ask, How is my body in this moment? How was it in the past? How will it be in the future? Look into your body to see whether it is at peace or is suffering. Look at the condition of your lungs, your heart, your intestines, your kidneys, and your liver to see what the real needs of your body are.

Next, observe your feelings—whether they are pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. Feelings flow in us like a river, and each feeling is a drop of water in that river. Look into the river of your feelings and see how each feeling came to be. See what has been preventing you from being happy, and do your best to transform those things. Practice touching the wondrous, refreshing, and healing elements that are already in you and in the world. Doing so, you become stronger and better able to love yourself and others.

Then meditate on your perceptions. The Buddha observed, “The person who suffers most in this world is the one who has many wrong perceptions.” Most of our perceptions are erroneous. You see a snake in the dark and you panic, but when you shine a light on it, you see that it is only a rope. Please write beautifully the sentence, “Are you sure?” on a piece of paper and tape it to your wall. Meditation helps you learn to look with clarity and serenity in order to improve the way you perceive.

Next, observe your mental formations, the ideas and tendencies within you that lead you to speak and act as you do. Practice looking deeply to discover the true nature of your mental formations—how you are influenced by your own individual consciousness and also by the collective consciousness of your family, ancestors, and society. Unwholesome mental formations cause so much disturbance; wholesome mental formations bring about love, happiness, and liberation.

Finally, look at your consciousness. According to Buddhism, consciousness is like a field with every possible seed in it: seeds of love, compassion, joy, and equanimity; seeds of anger, fear, and anxiety; and seeds of mindfulness, concentration, and insight. Consciousness is the storehouse that contains all these seeds, all the possibilities of whatever might arise in your mind. When your mind is not at peace, it may be because of the desires and feelings in your unconscious mind. To live in peace, you have to be aware of your tendencies—your habit energies—so you can exercise some self-control. This is the practice of preventive health care. Look deeply into the nature of your feelings to find their roots, to see which feelings need to be transformed, and nourish those feelings that bring about peace, joy, and well-being. With each breath, we ease suffering and generate joy. With each step, the flower of insight blooms.

⧫

Adapted from No Mud, No Lotus: The Art of Transforming Suffering by Thich Nhat Hanh ©  by Thich Nhat Hanh © 2014 Parallax Press. Reprinted with permission of the publisher.

Interested in reading more by Thich Nhat Hanh and supporting the Thich Nhat Hanh Foundation? Parallax Press—the non-profit publisher founded by Thich Nhat Hanh in 1986—has partnered with Humble Bundle to celebrate his literary legacy through The Art of Happiness, a charitable ebook bundle that supports the Thich Nhat Hanh Foundation and includes Thich Nhat Hanh ebooks like No Mud, No Lotus, The Other Shore, and Happiness. Check out The Art of Happiness ebook bundle here, available worldwide from February 12-March 5.

The post Thich Nhat Hanh on Transforming Suffering appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

From time to time, Tricycle features articles from the Inquiring Mind archive. Inquiring Mind, a Buddhist journal that was in print from 1984–2015, has a growing number of articles from its back issues available at www.inquiringmind.com (help Inquiring Mind complete its archive by donating here). The following interview with Thich Nhat Hanh  from the Summer 1986 issue of Inquiring Mind was conducted in Berkeley, California, in November 1985, a few days after a retreat at Green Gulch Farm. Participants in the interview included Jane and Jamie Baraz, Barbara Gates, Jack Kornfield, Wes Nisker, and Henrietta Rogell. Interspersed with the interview are a few gathas, along with excerpts from Nhat Hanh’s writings and talks. 

Inquiring Mind: In your life in Vietnam, in your work there during the war, you saw tremendous suffering. You must have witnessed a great deal of death and difficulty in the war years and afterwards. What makes you choose to teach about joy, rather than teaching that life is dukkha or suffering?

Thich Nhat Hanh: Maybe it’s because suffering is not enough. I think Theravada Buddhism stresses too much on that aspect, suffering, and Mahayana stresses a little bit more on the other aspect, the wonderful nature of life.

IM: In the Theravada teachings, in the suttas, there’s a lot of emphasis on ending the realms of rebirth, on getting out of life. In the Mahayana teachings you speak more, you say, of finding the beauty in life. How do those fit together? You have studied both.

TNH: I think that people tend to go to extremes. The Buddha spoke about dukkha, and he also spoke about sukha; we don’t want to make everything into suffering. When we talk about “getting out of life,” when we use the word “extinction,” we are always referring to the extinction of something. So extinction means the extinction of ignorance, suffering, attachment, and it means, at the same time, the blooming of the opposite things.

For example, when I draw a circle, you might call it a zero, nothing. But someone looking at the circle can think of the totality of things. You see, it depends on our way of looking. When I say that a person is empty or something is empty, you think ”empty of what? It must be empty of something.” So, in the case of Buddhism, I think it is empty of separate identity, but it’s not empty of other things.

Like the table over there is empty of separate self. This means that without the non-table elements, the table cannot be. The table is empty of self but it’s full of everything: the forest, the clouds, the sunshine, the water. The table is full of everything but self as a separate entity.

So, we are trapped into words, and people tend to go to extremes in their talking. When we talk about “extinction” we mean, at the same time, the coming into existence of the opposite. 

IM: So, maybe that’s why you emphasize joy so much. Because you saw so much suffering and you want to balance . . .

TNH: I don’t think that is the reason. The reason is that we should be able to smile at our own suffering, that we should not drown in our own suffering. That is the practice of Buddhism. You know that in both the Theravada and Mahayana the joy is something that you begin with while practicing. You leave the noise and complications of daily life behind to go to the forest, and you experience joy, joy of being alone, joy of going back to yourself.

You do not escape life, but rather go to yourself in order to fully realize that you are in life, that you are one with everything. So joy must be the keynote of Buddhism, both in Theravada and Mahayana. I cannot see it otherwise. 

IM: But in order to fully appreciate the wonder or the joy in life, do you have to deeply experience the truth of life’s suffering?

TNH: Yes, but everyone is doing that anyway. You don’t have to do extra. You only should be aware that you are experiencing suffering, and also open yourself to joy.

A New Western Dharma

IM: You talk about creating a new dharma in the West, new forms appropriate for the Western mind. Can you give any specifics?

TNH: Buddhism is a tree that grows all the time, you know, and from time to time there is one person who is able to renew Buddhism for a certain time or a certain society. That’s why we have a variety of dharma doors that can serve different cultures. Suitability is one of the characteristics of Buddhist teachings. Buddhism for the West should be fit to serve the West and the Buddhists in the West have to work for it. They can profit from the experiences of Buddhists everywhere, but they should work for their own Buddhism in order for their own people to accept Buddhism, to practice Buddhism. 

IM: How would you compare Western minds to Eastern minds? Do you think our minds are more complicated here in the West? Are we a faster, more aggressive people, more concerned about being individuals?

TNH: In the East there are people like that also. I cannot generalize on that. But I do think that the West tends to be more dualistic in seeing and thinking. It seems to me that the Westerner is more afraid of losing his or her identity, and, therefore, has some difficulty in being with the other, of being in the skin and flesh of the other person.

Just look at the American tourists who go out of America, but never try to stay and live in a different way. You see Hilton Hotels everywhere, and many Americans who have been out of America are never out of America in their way of life, in their way of seeing. I knew an American who went to Chinese restaurants, but only ordered omelets.

According to Buddhism, to understand something is to be one with it, thus to lose your identity. And many Westerners are afraid of losing their own identity.

IM: In America, part of our identity is bound up with material things and it seems we often confuse comfort with the good life.

TNH: It depends on your way of looking at things. Something might appear to be the good life to some people, but not to others. Something might look comfortable to some and not comfortable to others. When we drink liquor or eat meat we may find them very good, very comfortable. But to make meat and liquor you have to use a lot of grains while people are dying of starvation around the world. With the awareness that liquor and meat mean the lack of cereal to many hungry people, you cannot enjoy them any longer. So you might find it more comfortable to refrain from drinking liquor and eating meat.

Sitting is another example. Some people think that to sit quietly for a half an hour, not saying anything, not making any movement, is very boring and uncomfortable. But other people enjoy it because they have another way of looking. The problem of comfort should be looked upon like that.

IM: In America many people have started learning about Buddhism through meditation. They go to a Zen sesshin or train in Vipassana or Satipatthana, but they return to a culture which contradicts Buddhist principles. How can we teach people to translate from sitting—where they mindfully watch the breath, thoughts and feelings— to living with compassion and seeing the interconnectedness of all of life? 

TNH: I think that depends on our idea of practice, because to practice meditation is to be aware of what is going on, not only when you sit, but when you walk and work and eat.

My plate is now filled.
I see clearly the presence
Of the entire universe
And its contribution to my existence.

When you are in your daily life you are caught up in so many things that you cannot see clearly. You go to the meditation center to see the reality of the world more clearly. In the meditation hall you learn to be really aware, and if you learn it well, then you will be aware outside of the meditation hall.

If your practice of meditation in the meditation hall does not have an effect on life outside of the meditation hall, I think there is something wrong with your practice. You have to practice in the meditation hall in a way that awakens you outside, therefore bringing Buddhism into daily life.

Before starting the car, I know where I am going.
The car and I are one.
If the car goes fast, I go fast.

The Path of Compassion

IM: Are social concerns, such as helping to relieve the suffering of famine and war, part of the Buddhist tradition, or are they something new introduced by spiritual activists, such as yourself and [Sri Lanken social activist Dr. A.T.] Ariyaratne?

TNH: I don’t think they’re something new; the Buddha said that suffering is; that means that he knew about suffering in the life of the individual, in the life of society, and so on. If you don’t accept the First Noble Truth, then you cannot be a Buddhist. And if you are really aware of suffering, then you cannot resist doing something to relieve that suffering. It’s so simple: Seeing the suffering leads to compassion. Compassion, in Buddhism, is also basic. If you have compassion, you are not afraid to act; awareness and compassion will certainly lead to action.

Even as they
strike you down
with a mountain of hate and violence,
even as they step on your life and crush it
like a worm,
even as they dismember, disembowel you,
remember brother,
remember
man is not our enemy.
— from The Cry of Vietnam

IM: What was your action when you were in the midst of the war in Vietnam? You were moved to act. How did you protest?

TNH: We protested first against the lack of awareness, because many people did not want to look at the reality of suffering. So we brought awareness of the suffering to their doors, into their homes. That is the work of information, bringing information about suffering.

Secondly, we trained young people, monks, nuns, and lay people to help the victims of the war—the orphans, the widows—to set up resettlement camps for the refugees, to build new villages, to rebuild villages that had been destroyed. We were quite active during the war, and many of our workers died while in service—because of the bombs, because of the bullets, and also because we refused to take sides. Each side thought that we were allied with the other.

We suffered a lot, but we continued. Recently, we even went to the ocean on missions to rescue the boat people. We don’t just talk about suffering; we go to the people who suffer.

IM: Do you believe in collective karma, that there was some kind of karma that Vietnam had to suffer as a society?

TNH: Did the Vietnamese War only happen to the Vietnamese? Isn’t it still here in this room with us? The karma of Vietnam is the karma of the world. Vietnam is everywhere now. Vietnam is in America, in Central America, in Africa, in Cambodia, everywhere, and we all suffer the same things more or less. The conflict of Vietnam was the conflict of the world: two giant blocks and Vietnam in the middle. Everyone wanted to take up guns in order to kill our brothers, and they thought they had to do it in order to save us from the “other side.” Buddhist monks burned themselves alive in order to appeal to the outside world to intervene, to stop that kind of confrontation. But not many listened because they wanted to take sides either with the Communists or the anti-Communists.

If we look, we see that Vietnam is everywhere now, and everybody is taking sides. Few are trying to do the work of mediation, reconciliation.

IM: How does one do the work of reconciliation?

TNH: You need to stay independent in order to understand the suffering of both sides. The American side is scared. The Russian side is scared. We are all scared of the situation. To do the work of reconciliation you need to inform each side of the suffering of the other. 

We need you very much if you can do this. But you must know that doing this work is very dangerous because, as with our experience in Vietnam, each side may think of you as belonging to the other.

IM: It takes a very, very strong commitment to be effective in transmitting the message of reconciliation.

TNH: Yes. You have to use your whole life in order to hope that the message will come through.

IM: Today we’re faced with ecological disasters, the threat of nuclear war, and people in power who refuse to pay attention to the other side. A rare quality of mind is needed to do the work of reconciliation at this time. What are skillful ways that the peacemakers can create change without polarizing people?

TNH: Even in the Peace Movement people take sides. Meditation is very important in the work of reconciliation. To meditate is to understand, to see deeply. Through meditation we see our interconnectedness. We understand that identification with the delusion of a separate self means an incapacity to understand other people. To see beyond duality, to understand other people and situations is a beginning.

IM: Suppose I have developed awareness through meditation. How do I translate that awareness into effective action that wakes up others, that wakes up especially the people in power?

TNH: Meditation should lead to a new relationship with the people in power. The fruit of meditation is understanding, and understanding is acceptance and love. Through meditation we can understand the people we used to consider our enemies. We have called the people in power our enemies; we have blamed them for not giving us peace. This is because we don’t really understand them, and we don’t understand the situation, which prevents them from doing what we expect.

If you do not understand a government, it is very hard to make the kind of suggestions that can be accepted by the government. Sometimes you have the impression that if you had the power in your hands you could make peace right away. But that is not the case. I think when you have the power in your hands you will do exactly the same thing as the people you protest against now.

So try to understand first and talk to them in the kind of language that will help them to understand you. And try to see whether in the present situation they can do the things you suggest. And if they cannot, consider how we together can make it possible, because all of us dictate the policy of our governments. The way we live our daily lives, the way we consume, is the root of everything. If we do not live the life of reconciliation, then it will not be possible for our government to bring reconciliation in the world.

When I say “reconciliation” I mean peace. I just told you about drinking some liquor, enjoying the liquor. I don’t think we can reconcile that with 40,000 hungry children who die every day if you drink that glass of liquor. If you try to reduce the eating of meat, say 50 percent, I think we can be more able to reconcile ourselves, our life with the life of the world. Then if each of us lives a life of reconciliation, we have the weight of our words in order to push for a change in policy.

Meditation has to do with all these things. 

Teaching Buddhism to Children

IM: You put so much emphasis on teaching children at the retreat just now and in the community in Plum Village. What does Buddhist teaching have to offer for children?

TNH: I don’t think that Buddhism is only for adults. It is better that our children begin to sit when they are young. Sometimes I notice that children understand Buddhism more quickly than adults. They have less prejudices. Their minds are very fresh. I put a lot of my time into teaching children because I see more effectiveness in that work.

The other day, during a dharma talk, children were sitting in front of me and there was a boy whose name is Tim smiling beautifully. I said, “Tim, you have a very beautiful smile.” And he said, “Thank you.” I said, “No, you don’t have to thank me, I have to thank you. Because of your smile, you make life more beautiful. So instead of saying, ‘Thank you,’ you should say, ‘You’re welcome.’” For the past two days the children have been smiling a lot, and when I look at them, they say, “You are welcome.” – From Being Peace

If you wait until a tree is big and plant it, it’s quite difficult to take care of it. When you plant a tree very young it is always easier. The tree will grow more beautiful. 

IM: What message do you try to get across to the children? 

TNH: The same message as for adults: to be aware. To practice meditation is a clever way of enjoying life. If you are happy and you are not aware that you are happy, then you are not happy.

Also the children can be aware that their father and mother have problems, and they can try to understand the situation of the family. If they understand, they will be able to accept and to love. That is the most important teaching of Buddhism, and I think both traditions have it in depth: to be awake, to understand and to love.

♦

More Inquiring Mind Articles by or featuring Thich Nhat Hanh:

Peace Becomes Possible: An interview with Thich Nhat Hanh
Refuge from Violence: Tools for Nonviolent Living
Walking a Landscape of Change
The Next Buddha May Be a Sangha

The post Suffering Is Not Enough: An Early Interview with Thich Nhat Hanh appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

If the deer like to be in the countryside, and the birds like to be in the sky, then the practitioner likes to be in nirvana. We are in nirvana. The only problem is that we are not able to return to it.

In Plum Village, we use the simple example of the wave and the water. In our life as a wave, we struggle and we have fear, because we have to go up and down, to be born and die, to exist and not to exist. We can see clearly that to live the life of the wave is very difficult. But when the wave discovers it is water, then it begins to practice living as water. A wave is and is not, is up and down, is high and low, but water is utterly free. The question is: Does the wave have the ability to live its true nature as water, or must it just live as a wave? A wave can practice living its life as water.

♦

From Enjoying the Ultimate: Commentary on The Nirvana Chapter of the Chinese Dharmapada by Thich Nhat Hanh. Reprinted in arrangement with Parallax Press.

The post A Wave in the Water appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

Every home, no matter how small, can have a breathing room. We may have a room for everything else—a bathroom, a bedroom, a living room—but most of us don’t have a room for our own breathing and peace of mind. If you live in a one-room studio, or don’t have enough space to set aside a whole room, you can make a breathing space or a breathing corner.

Your breathing room is a sacred place. You don’t need any furniture—maybe just a cushion or two, and perhaps an altar or a table with fresh flowers. If you want, you can have a bell to help you with the practice of stopping and mindful breathing.

Think about the setup of this room or corner carefully. How much we enjoy being in a certain place very much depends on the energy that is generated within it. A room can be well-decorated but feel cold and unfriendly; another can lack color and furniture but can feel simple, spacious, and comfortable. If you live with other people, you should all design and decorate this space together, perhaps with flowers, pebbles, or photographs. Don’t put a lot in the room. The most important elements are a place to sit and a feeling of peace.

There needs to be an agreement in advance that everyone respects the breathing area. Once you’re in the breathing room or breathing corner, no one can shout at you anymore. You have immunity. When you hear members of your family in the breathing room, you can support them by lowering your own voice, or you might want to join them. If you’re very upset, you can restore your clarity by going to the breathing room.

When you feel uneasy, sad, or angry, you can go into the breathing room, close the door, sit down, invite a sound of the bell—in the Zen tradition, we don’t say that we ring or strike the bell, instead we “invite” the bell with the “inviter” (usually a wooden stick)—and practice breathing mindfully. When you breathe like this for 10 or 15 minutes, you begin to feel better. Without such a room, you may not allow yourself to take a break, even in your own home. You may be restless, angry with others, or sad. If you spend even a few minutes in your breathing room, you can ease your suffering and better understand the source of your discomfort.

Making an Altar

In your breathing room or breathing corner, consider making an altar. On the altar in my hermitage in France are images of Buddha and Jesus, and every time I light incense, I’m in touch with both of them as my spiritual ancestors. When you touch someone who authentically represents a tradition, you touch not only his or her tradition, but also your own.

In East Asia, every home has a family altar. Whenever there’s an important event in the family, like the birth of a child, we offer incense and announce the news to our ancestors. If our son is about to go to college, we make an offering and announce that tomorrow our son will leave for college. When we return home after a long trip, the first thing we do is offer incense to our ancestors and announce that we are home.

Putting pictures of our blood and spiritual ancestors on our altars helps us feel rooted. If we can find ways to cherish and develop our spiritual heritage, we feel more whole. Learning to touch deeply the jewels of our own tradition allows us to understand and appreciate the values of other traditions, and this benefits everyone.

On your altar you can place a bell, or an incense holder, a small statue, one or two candles, flowers, or a small rock. Anything that feels important to you can be there. It’s important that each person who lives in your home feels a connection to the altar. If they’d like to add something, they might go for a walk in nature and come back with something that represents beauty, solidity, or goodness for them—perhaps a stone, a leaf, a pinecone, or a flower.

If there are words that help to ground you, you can add them to the altar as well. Some people write the words from the breathing meditation [practiced at Thich Nhat Hanh’s Plum Village meditation center]:

In, Out.
Deep, Slow.
Calm, Ease.
Smile, Release.
Present Moment, Wonderful Moment.

You might enjoy writing down other key words that will stay with you easily and remind you to breathe mindfully throughout the day.

Placing objects on an altar doesn’t mean we’re bowing to or worshiping these things. For example, placing a statue of the Buddha on the altar is a reminder of our own capacity to be mindful, awake, loving, and accepting. Creating and maintaining a home altar is a way to pay respect to the world around us, our ancestors, and the natural world, and to remind us that whatever we love and respect is also within us.

♦

From ​Making Space by Thich Nhat Hanh​ © 2012​. Excerpted with permission of Parallax Press.

This article was originally published on March 16, 2018

The post Give Yourself a Breathing Room appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

The primary purpose of walking meditation is to completely enjoy the experience of walking. We walk all the time, but usually our walking is more like running. Our steps are often burdened with our anxieties and sorrows. When we walk in forgetfulness, we imprint our anxieties and sorrows on Mother Earth and on those around us. But when we walk in mindfulness, each step creates a fresh breeze of peace, joy, and harmony.

When we practice walking meditation, we do not try to arrive anywhere or attain any particular goal. Our destination is the here and now. The Buddha said, “The past no longer is. The future has not yet come. Looking deeply at life as it is in the very here and now, the practitioner dwells in stability and freedom.” We do not need to put something in front of us and run after it, because everything we have been looking for—peace, joy, love, transformation, healing, enlightenment—can only be found inside us in the present moment. Where are we going? Why do we need to hurry? Where is our final destination? These are questions that help us put things into perspective.

The longer you practice walking with this connection, the more your heart will be softened and opened. Do not start with an unrealistic goal, such as practicing for an hour or so. But if you can take one peaceful step, you can then take two, three, four, or more.

Slow Walking Meditation

Stand in a relaxed posture, just like in seated meditation. Let your weight sink deeply into the ground, so that you can see yourself as a tree with deep roots in the Earth.

Keep your head and neck aligned with your spine by dropping your shoulders. Loosen your hips. Keep your knees bent. Loosen your elbows and your wrists. Your eyes are half open, looking down in front of you at an angle that does not bend your neck, so your neck is still relaxed and your head is sitting comfortably on your neck. Your eyes are looking down, but it’s a soft-eye look. We don’t try to capture anything in particular.

Breathe calmly with your belly. Keep a gentle smile on your lips.

Now, press your feet firmly on the ground. Shift your weight to your left foot, so that you feel like your left foot is sinking into the ground, and that the right leg is empty of weight. Now, shift your weight to your right leg. See if you can feel the contact between the sole of your right foot and the floor.

Now, as you breathe in, begin slow walking by bringing your left foot forward and placing it down on the floor. One inhalation, one step. As you breathe out, step with your right foot. One inhalation, one step; one exhalation, one step.

As you breathe in, feel the rise of your abdomen as you place your foot on the floor. As you breathe out, feel the fall of your abdomen as you make the next step. You may like to put one or both hands on your tummy as you walk.

Feel your weight being shifted from one leg to another. Be fully aware of the contact between the sole of your foot and the floor. When the contact between our foot and the floor is perfect, we are fully present.

You may experience some imbalance the first time you practice slow walking. Just allow your weight to sink into the ground.

When your foot kisses the Earth, kisses the floor, your mind also kisses the floor, kisses the Earth. The mind, the breath, the step, the gentle baby smile, all become one as we walk in this way. Our anxieties, our worries, our sorrows stop and rest with every step.

You can hold words in your heart as you walk. Holding words can help you to be more focused, more present, and more concentrated.

When you make a step with an in-breath, you can say quietly in your heart, “I have arrived.” As you make the next step with an out-breath, you can say. “I am home.” Or you can say “In the here” as you breathe in and “In the now” as you breathe out. Continue walking in this way for as long as you wish.

Walking Meditation in Public Places

Once you taste the peace, joy, and serenity that result from the practice of slow mindful walking indoors and in nature, you can practice walking meditation wherever you are. You can enjoy the steps between business meetings, or walking from the parking lot to your office, or in the subway, or at the airport. lt is important that you allow enough time to walk so you do not have to rush.

When you do walking meditation in a busy city, you can walk in the same way that you walk in nature. There are many more sounds and sights, but through mindful breathing and walking you can create a refuge for yourself, a little island of peace amid the noise and confusion.

Wherever you are, walk mindfully, arriving with each step you take, feeling the relaxation that comes with belly breathing. If you can synchronize your steps with your breath, do that. Otherwise, just let it all go. Come back to your heart, come back to your deep desire to relax, to be centered and calm. Allow your breath and your steps to flow naturally. As long as you can feel the solid Earth beneath your feet, your heart will remain open and you will feel your connection with the Earth and with all life.

When practicing mindful walking in public places, always breathe normally. Walk slowly, but not too slowly, because you do not want others to think you are too unusual. Walk a little slower than your normal pace and a little faster than indoor walking. In this way you can enjoy peace and serenity as you walk without making the people around you uncomfortable.

♦

Adapted from Walking Meditation: Easy Steps to Mindfulness, by Nguyen Anh-Huong and Thich Nhat Hanh. Sounds True, February 2019. Reprinted with permission.

The post Walking Meditation—Anywhere appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.